Prayer for my body

You can listen to the prayer here.

If you would like to get the pdf file to print or the mp3 file to download, just send me an email.

Blessings,

Susannah

My ill body at 53

This vessel of mine which has been neglected for so long, I was such a fool to believe I could become spiritual and mindful without paying due respect to my body.  Yet, it has served me well: it gave me my three beautiful children and becoming a mother was the most exquisite experience of love; it gave me pleasure and I was able to enjoy sex and love as a magic burst of divine energy. It was fun to do many things with my body: driving, repairing things, carrying my children, going to the gym, doing Aero box and Tae-bo, dancing, going for a walk, climbing stairs and chairs to make my home beautiful, climbing hills with my children or trekking on my own.  My body was always there to help me feel Wonder Woman who needed no man to raise her children or accomplish goals in life.  

But, I asked for too much, even when my body was tired I would keep moving and carrying furniture just to save money and to do everything on my own.  I would accept all challenges because the word ‘no’ is for the weak ones and you can always find the way to say ‘yes’ and make things work.

I would not take a break even if my ankle was twisted and I could not walk, if I had high blood pressure and my headache was killing me,  or if I could hardly breathe because my lungs were suffering from allergic asthma.  Even if I was in pain or if I was bleeding heavily, I would wear my mask and my disguise and I would always look like the professional woman who can beat anyone at work.

There was a time when I would give my body anything to keep it working and active: smoking, drinking coffee, taking pain killers every day (more than twice a day) and sleeping only for three or four hours, to be able to make more money and give my children the life I thought they deserved.
When I was younger and beautiful, I was not careful enough with lovers and boyfriends; I was too much desperate to fill the void, to make the unmothered child feel loved and cared.  I believed that if I found the right man I would stop feeling lonely and his love would fill every hole in my heart.  The wrong men did not respect my temple and did not treat my energy as sacred, they only cared about my body and their own pleasure, they left me or I left them, feeling more lonely and broken than before.  May be, my family had been right all the time, I needed some fixing, there was something wrong with me and being extremely sensitive and seeking for true love was just a crazy thing of a poet from outer space.

My body grew tired of not being listened, cared and respected, so, it forced me to change my habits through the only way I would acknowledge I had to stop: disease or illness.  First, it was my gall bladder when I was a teenager; then, it was a stomach ulcer when I was in my mid twenties; after that, my heart decided to play tricks when I was in my late twenties and high blood pressure became an issue; pneumonia and allergic asthma would become regulars in winter or during every change of season.  They would not come and go; they would just stay and combine with the previous ones, resulting in an interesting combination of medicines and pills which became a dangerous game for my metabolism. In my late thirties, Endometriosis and Fibromyalgia jumped onto the stage.  It was then, when I decided it was time to go for holistic treatments, herbs, spices and natural supplements.  Studying and researching became the best way to get to know this body of mine, to understand the emotional imbalance and to learn about the misalignment of chakras.

Natural remedies, holistic treatments and ancestral healing take a lot of time and make you dive deep into the ocean of your emotions, wounds and shadows.  Hence, when you think you are about to get better, there is a new layer which needs to be tended, healed and forgiven.  It is an endless process; you cannot give up, or expect miracles with just a cup of tea.

In my late forties, I had become totally disconnected from my Shakti, I was tired of kissing frogs and when I bought a new bed, I decided  nobody would sleep there with me, unless they were worth to share time with me in my sacred temple, in my blessed home.  If anyone was really fond of me should provide the place, the perfect date and all the courtship, I would not accept less than that. All the same, I kept attracting the wrong men: broken hearts, no love, no soul, and no respect for energies.  I did not care; I was too determined to make my life work without sex, love or a partner. 

Disconnecting from our Shakti, our first and second chakra, leads us to lack of abundance, scarcity and it breaks all the bridges with our creative goddess.  I became poor, unemployed, useless and helpless.  When two of my grandchildren needed a foster mother because they were living in chaos, with no education, school or values, it was the perfect time for Wonder Woman to come out and save the children, without saving myself first.  I went beyond my limitations, and once again I demanded my body to go with it.

My body took the shortest way: a combination of high blood pressure and heart issues to cause a fit.  I had had signals, I had been told by people and the angels that I should let them go, but I wanted to save those unmothered children the way I had never been saved.  When I came back home, my heart was broken (for my grandchildren and my daughter) and because I had to let them go, the same way I had to let go of my children when they were teenagers and I was homeless and sick.  I was also broke and my body decided to play the last card: POP appeared out of the blue as a way to show me that my body was not on the same train, not any more.

I felt ashamed, devastated, useless, helpless, ugly, dirty, lonely, disabled and gynaecologists were treating me as an old woman who had no chances for a normal life and no chances for a pension, when I was just becoming 50 years old.  There were suggestions of experiments, chopping parts of my organs, getting rid of some other ones and confining me under the protection of relatives who would not only decide upon my body but would tell me what to do nor to do.  I was not giving away my freedom; I was not letting the butchers touch my energy centres with their commercial hands.

I have been quite on my own since then, some friends and relatives may listen and try to understand, some may respect my decisions, some others would avoid seeing me or talking to me, they do not want to know details, they do not want to see the truth.  There are the ones who believe I would be a lot better connected to some machines, having been emptied and getting medicines and hospital food.  There are the others who believe my life would be a lot easier if I had gotten a good husband to pay for all the bills, the house and a car.  Most people do not want to know, they do not want to acknowledge, they do not want to see the ruins of a wonder woman who does not fly or jump any more.

Overweight has been an issue since I got my first period and my frightened mother started fighting my curves and hormones.  I have learnt, with time that emotional overweight is triggered by the need to protect ourselves from the environment or the people who hurt us.  As I wrote in my story ‘La Gorda’, overweight is the perfect shield to avoid sexual abuse and to prevent men from courting you when you are trying to work or get a job.  You can also walk along the streets and become totally invisible; there are no nasty comments or looks.

I have a tendency for curves and my hips do not lose their shape even if I am on diet.  I used to be on a diet every time I felt I was gaining too much weight, I would go to the gym to keep fit, look slim and feel well.  I can live on economy mode, eating almost nothing if I am going through poor times, and I can get really fat, just because my body develops this amount of fat just in case we starve long enough.  My hormones do work in a peculiar way.  I’m done with diets, I do not prohibit myself any food unless it makes me really sick or it is bad for any of the diseases I live with.  I’ve had enough times of scarcity and starving, so when there is food, I just enjoy it.

After POP became the leading actor in this play, overweight has become more than an issue, there are ups and downs, but I haven’t been slim for a long while.  I had to give up the gym, the fast walks, my bike and any other kind of physical exercise, because most places, gyms or centres are not ready to deal with POP or women with certain disabilities. Giving up my bike, which I rode to work every day and I would use morning and evening to visit my clients or do the shopping, resulted in stiff joints, muscle pain, loss of flexibility and even difficulty to climb a bus, the stairs or a truck.  Going out needs a lot of awareness of all our muscles, organs, bones and joints, we need to take care of our pelvic floor and watch that our organs don’t fall down; we need to check that we cannot carry heavy bags any more.  Therefore, you stop moving, you start isolating yourself and you don’t go out unless there is a kind friend who understands your limitations and disabilities.

Last year, I became aware, that I could not wear my jeans anymore and that I felt very uncomfortable with tight clothes.  I knew I was becoming fatter, I could feel it, I was heavier and clumsy and every movement required a lot of effort.  But you know, there is only a small mirror in the bathroom which shows only my face.  So, I did not feel that fat.  I thought the weight would go down sooner or later.
This year, I started with the Lift Series from Dr. Bri and I also combined them with Chair Yoga, it helped me feel really well, healthy and I could recover some flexibility after the first week.  Then poor times ruled the diet again and my organs got worse and pain was so intense, I stopped moving again.  The summer here was too hot and my menopause hormones were not comfortable with exercise.  I have learnt to listen to my body, too late, I must admit.

My body is tired of my bossy mind, it does not want to hear about pushy schedules or fixed timetables.  It just knows how many spoons are available for the day ahead and we proceed accordingly.  We just need to juggle the demands, we cannot do or achieve everything we want; sometimes, we have to choose: hours of work, cleaning the house, doing the shopping, taking the bus downtown, doing exercise, considering going for a walk, doing chakra dance, cooking or helping people.  Mind you, there are days when there are only two spoons and you have to choose wisely, especially when you are on your own and there is no help.

The truth is I feel sad, extremely sad, there are days when I am totally depressed and I feel hopeless and helpless. I try so hard not to show that, I try so hard to be professional and not to talk about my personal life, I try really hard to keep my vibes positive and to focus on the good things, I try hard to control all this process: I talk to my cells, to my organs, to my bones, to my joints, to Jesus, to God, to the Universe, to my higher self, to my Divine self, to my little girl inside, to the wise woman, to the curandera who helps others, I keep working hard and even when I go to sleep I am praying for my health and for the recovery of all my inner bridges.

There are days, like yesterday, today and the day before yesterday, when naps are longer than work periods, then I have to accept that I cannot clean my house if I want to be able to work.  And these days are the worst, I feel extremely tired, overwhelmed and I wonder: what’s the sake of living in pain, without enjoying life, without doing everything I like, without being able to talk about how I feel, and just by collecting every penny to survive and pay the rent?  What’s the sake of it?  I deserve better, I know better.

When I went to be last night, I was in pain, extremely tired, sick and feeling I was living in a thick heavy  Buddha who could not move but could not smile either.

A couple of weeks ago I had to travel to the south of Mendoza province, I stayed at an apartment.  The apartment had a huge floor to ceiling mirror,  Looking at my naked body was a shock, I realized I am really overweight, my shapes are no longer as they used to be, my curves have lost their beauty and I look so horrible with the clothes I manage to wear.  I tried to do some mirror work and I even considered tapping. But the image on the mirror was so shocking and disgusting that I only felt like crying. I can no longer wear nice clothes, they do not fit me anymore; I just wear second hand clothes which look old fashioned or I just wear trainers and some cheap pants which fit me.  I have been feeling like crying a river since that day.  I now know what I look like, I know that I am really fat and it is more than overweight,  I almost look like an obese woman.  I can feel it, it is hard to tie my shoelaces or to sit down on a sofa or stand up quickly.

So, when I went to bed last night, I started crying and touching my body, my limbs, my skin, my face, my hair and even my fat belly.  The more I did that, the more I cried, painful tears coming from my heart.  I started praying and talking to my body like this:

I ask you, my higher self, to help me align all my chakras and make my body healthy again.

Oh Lord, please show me the best way to be fit again and make good use of this body of mine.

I ask you, my Divine self, to take this body and fill it with light and love so that all the wounds are healed and all the shadows are no longer out of reach.

Oh my dear body, I am so thankful and grateful for all that you have given me: my children, pleasure, sex, joy, fun, exercise, dancing, hugging, kissing, touching, climbing, trekking, walking, riding my bike, driving cars and trucks, travelling and being a channel for God’s will and light.

Oh my beloved body, I now cleanse every wound, every dirty spot, every memory of abuse and neglect, every dark corner and every broken spot; I breathe out  my love so that this warm air fills every cell, every organ, every muscle, every joint and every bone; by the power of God that I am, I am health, I am love, I am light and you are one with me.

Oh my beautiful body, you are the sacred temple for my soul, my energies, the love and light of God and my mission here on earth.  Give me just one more chance, I promise I will take care of you, I will honour you, I will respect you, I will praise you and I will make you holy in everything I do.

My dear Lord, if you still want me here on earth, if you and the angels need me, please  take my heart and my body and use my tears to make the clay wet and give it a new shape for your will here on earth.

I now rise from the depths of sorrow, carrying the pain of all the women in my family, I now undo all the painful words, the insane laws, the broken promises, the selfish spells, the angry curses and all the fears which have led us to this mar of lloronas.

I forgive myself for not looking after my body, for not listening to it, for not honouring it, for not praising it and for not respecting its sacred energy.

I forgive my body for pushing me into diseases I did not want to bear and for flooding myself with feelings I was not ready to bare.

I forgive my ancestors for not teaching me about healing and joy, for showing me the way of fear and making me believe I was a sinner with no right to glow.

I forgive all the men who were not ready to love me or those who were too afraid to love at all.  I forgive myself for loving men who were too broken to accept love in their lives.

I ask my soul and my divine self to forgive my ego and my selfish attempts to control everything in my life.

I ask my sexual organs to forgive me for neglecting them or for trying to go further in the spiritual path without considering them as part of my magic and sacred energy.

I forgive myself for feeling ashamed, useless, hopeless and helpless, for feeling that I needed to be fixed and that I did not deserve living here.

I forgive myself for seeking death too often in my life and for letting me die without living fully awake.

I now accept that I deserve all the best and the very best.

I now stop seeking beyond myself and trying to fix everything outside.

I now accept that it is time to look inside and take my time to heal this vessel and to show it my almighty love.

Oh this vessel of mine, may you be free from pain and sorrow, may you be at peace.  May you be healed and blessed, may you be kept sacred.  May all the light of the universe make your garden glow like never before.

Oh this body of mine, you are loved, you are cared, you are respected, you are needed, you are blessed.  You are healed, you are whole and pure again.

So it is, so it is, so it is.

Susannah
Susie
Meherdeep Kaur
April 3rd, 2018 

The art of taking naps...

The art of taking naps and not giving up

Each of us faces a time when when the holy well within needs tending. When we’re no longer able to bestow blessings on others because we’ve overgiven, or when something precious has been taken from us, or life’s demands are too great on our fragile system. But when the moisture goes out of our lives, and we’re no longer able to see beauty or converse with magic, we must ask ourselves how we can replenish our well-ness...
Toko-Pa

March is Endometriosis awareness month and it is the time when I honour and celebrate myself for choosing my own treatment and going with holistic therapies instead of letting the ‘butchers’ take away pieces of my sacred flesh.

Not long ago, I was brave enough to write about prolapse which stepped into the spotlight just when I was having Endo under control.

Yet, there are many days when I do not want to get up, there are lots of days when I feel ugly and being sick becomes a curse.

Isn’t it exhausting to work hard every day to make the spoons count, to look healthy and professional and to be positive? OMG! ... to be overwhelmingly positive because we have to focus on our blessings and not on our sufferings...

Let it be!

I mean, only when you have lived with a chronic disease and chronic pain on a daily basis, you can fully understand the amount of effort we put to be positive every day and keep on with our lives, even when you have to give in and make peace with a body that can no longer do what you used to enjoy.

I know there are people who have it worse; they were born with pain and disease.  I was lucky: There were times when I went to the gym twice a week, did Tae-bo, Aerobics and rode my bike to work every day.  I could climb hills, carry my children and grandchildren, do all the housework and move the furniture around home every time I felt like a change was necessary.

When POP broke in my life I found myself disconnected from my Shakti, I felt useless and helpless as a woman and I was lost in a world made for healthy people with no physical disability.  Physicians made me feel there was no way out for a woman in her early fifties.

Learning about the Spoon Theory, Dr. Christiane Northrup  and Dr. Bri from FemFusion Fitness , has helped me on my journey to emotional healing and peacemaking with my body.  But this is a huge onion and peeling off never ends, so it seems.  If I am careful with my diet and I take care of my body, there are nicer days and I can make use of my mornings.  Then, I feel happy, I do meditation, I can even go for a walk if the weather helps, I go back to B-School with a clear mind, I do gentle exercises and start a self care routine. I feel like I can reverse and improve my condition and I feel truly powerful.

But shadows are there waiting, it might be some stressful situation, it might  be a poor diet because of lack of abundance, it might be the moon or the hormones on their way down to the hidden secrets of wounds yet to be healed; it’s a lot easier and faster to feel sick, bloated, in pain and physically disabled.

Waking up in pain and discomfort can be really discouraging, no matter what meditation you try or what attitude you adopt, you can feel it’s not going to be an easy day.  You do your best; you get up early, have breakfast and take your pills.  You try not to schedule activities involving other people in the morning, because you know whatever happens with your organs after using the toilet may determine if you have to go back to bed or you can have a normal day.  Mind you, when our organs are out of place, fighting with gravity, it’s really hard to align your chakras and balance your energies.

Once we are feeling lost down the dark hole of pity, it is useless to count how many hours we can be productive and to keep track of how many hours we spend in bed trying to relieve the pain or ease our discomfort.  I tend to get grumpy, depressed, sad, lonely, tired, exhausted; and I feel totally overwhelmed by reality.

I have learnt to accept my moods, like the phases of the moon. “This too shall pass.”  I allow myself to feel awful.  I respect my pain, my sorrow and my grief.  Because I know that the harder I try to achieve the jovial mood, the longest the time I will spend trying to create a kind of energy I am not able to radiate.

Struggling to be positive when you are not, can cause killing headaches, insomnia, digestive issues and can make your condition worse.

I agree, movement is good, my body knows it, but there are days and sometimes weeks, when my whole system needs only to rest and relax; and when I finally manage to get some good sleep, I need lots of that, until my own body gets tired of the bed and tells me it is enough, even when it is 8.00 pm and I will only be up for a couple of hours.  I used to believe chronic fatigue was something you could ignore or avoid just with your attitude; it is not.

Every time I write one of my therapeutic stories or I write a post sharing my experience with other Endo sisters or women with POP before their sixties, I tend to celebrate by  believing  it is the end and that every  difficulty has been finally overcome; there is no easy and magic way out; there is no instant perfect solution.  There are baby steps, there is patience, there is tolerance, there is respect, there is the slow journey of belonging, and there is the humble learning of acceptance. 

I am 53 now and I will be 54 in September.  It’s been almost 4 years since this nightmare started.  Have I managed to completely heal myself from inside out?  No, I haven’t.  Have I managed to reverse my condition?  No, I haven’t.  Not yet. Have I been able to get my life back? No, I haven’t.  Have I succeeded in feeling happy in spite of? No, I have not.  Have my condition got worse? No, it hasn’t.  I have managed to keep the same stage all these years.

I have learnt to feel less guilty for the short and long naps I have to take several times a day.  I have learnt to feel less ashamed for having to cancel appointments or even take a day off out of the blue.  I have learnt to enjoy the good moments, the sunny days and the rainy days, the simple things one does not normally feel gratitude for: cooking, cleaning, making the bed, ironing some clothes, working at the computer, helping other people, making a change in other people’s lives or just being able to climb on a bus.

We are constantly bombarded by posters, quotes, videos, TED talks, inspirational movies, gurus, teachers, masters, coaches and different posts on social media.  I do share that kind of content and I try to cheer up people who need it, but I have also learnt to hold the space for those who are too tired to climb up the dark hole.  I’ve learnt not to pull them because everyone has a different pace and timing. So, come on, give me a break... 
I may need more than one break and some breaks may be longer than others.

"I believe dignity emerges in the way you finally carry your own story. Through your painstaking reframes to write yourself as the heroine at the helm of your own life, your losses cease to consume you. They are not forgotten or made invisible, but rather aggrandized in your telling, passed on through the line of mothers and daughters, as the mythical ‘obstacles to flight’ that they were. But dignity also lives in one’s willingness to step wholly into a new life of love, even as its first strands are being woven together to create a shape that will warm you." - Toko-pa Turner, Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home (belongingbook.com)

I am a holistic therapist and I help people build and repair their own bridges.  That doesn’t mean I am perfect and totally healed and cured.  I cannot be Zen 24/7.  There are times when I am just a regular woman living on this planet trying to keep all her s... together.

If you need a helping hand, I am right here.  I can either tell you a story or sing you a sweet song, but I can also stay quiet and just let you know I will be here.

We all need that.  

If you love someone who suffers from Endo, chronic pain, any other chronic disease or even chronic fatigue, there is no cure, not yet; so there is not much you can do to change that reality.  But you can hold the space for that person; you can learn about the little things which make our days better or easier, you can realize when a hug is needed or when you should wait for a call.

I do believe many of the health issues my body and I are dealing with are the result of not listening to my body, of not ‘tending the well’ as often as possible.  Thus, to be fair, after so many years, we both deserve to be heard, to be tended, to be cared, to be respected and to be honoured.

Even in my darkest hour, I will never forget that I am light, so, sooner or later I will fly once again, like the Phoenix.
Susie
Susana Lorenzo
Marzo 2018 


I am light

Please accept this guided meditation as a gift.

You might also like to read:
My life with POP

About Endo

Being an unmothered child

Falling to pieces at Xmas

When you feel you are finally getting out of the darkness or that even when you face dark moments, you can go beyond them and find peace and light in just being yourself, pain bounces back cracking the wound which you thought was already healing.  Here I am, once again falling to pieces.

Thoughts
It looks like if you grow too much, if you think too much, an army of ghostly bodies will try to empty your heart and mind until no traces are left of the original soul, which lives beyond your shadows.
From the book ‘Pieces’
Soledad Lorena

I’ve been busy building, designing, crossing, knitting and writing bridges.  I’ve been even helping people to work with their own bridges.

I’ve gone through a very deep and intense healing journey to bless all the wounds and to leave the past where it is.  Living in the moment, being present and trying not to worry about the future, has been my personal lesson this year.

But you know, every time there is a blast of anger, words and resentment; I realize my children still dwell in the past.  Their own wounds keep them broken, so broken and so damaged that they cannot but hurt other people and themselves.

For every bridge I have repaired and mended, they have grown so distant or maybe it’s me; walking into the light far away from remorse and guilt has kept me so distant from the people I love the most: my own children.

Their hearts are so close and full of anger and pain; they are so far away from God, their own soul and the Holy Spirit, that we do not talk the same language any more. The bonds and bridges among them are also broken and when crossed, they are only used for times of war.

As a mother, on this Holy day of Christmas, I ask myself: how can I be happy or even fill my heart with joy when my own children are so hurt and so broken that my heart is in pain?  Few friends know the story, the nest was destroyed too son, this family was broken long ago and since then, we have survived trying to do as if everything was ok, trying not to miss each other, trying not to ask for a moment of love and joy.

I know, if they are in their thirties I can do nothing but pray and let them live their choices.  If I get closer, toxic relations bring me down and seem to be useless because we live in different worlds and dimensions.  If I keep distance, then they can come shouting and swearing for whatever tiny thorn is bothering them.

My hands are tied and that makes me feel helpless and useless.  They do not want help; they do not even believe they need it.

When you are a single mother and you have raised them on your own, they tend to blame you for everything, it is not the missing parent who did nothing, but the mother who was always there making all the decisions and choices, for better or worse.

Coming to my place, spending a moment of peace, surrounded with good energies and beauty seems to stir their most negative emotions and behaviours.

For some reason, the lighter the place, the stronger I feel, the healthier my heart looks and the sole look of tended gardens and mended bridges; the deeper the darkness in them which comes out as poisonous words and aggressive manners.

I cannot dwell in the past any more, I no longer wallow in my wounds and I am not willing to wallow in their pain either.

It is said that when we become mothers pieces of our hearts live outside us, walking around and making us feel their paces, we breathe what they breathe and whatever hurts them hurts us the most.

A warrior of light learns to walk away from parents, brothers and friends;  a warrior of light feels at ease walking along the less travelled path, a warrior of light gives away her own colours to knit perfect wings for her children and remains empty and colourless for years, a warrior of light learns about loneliness and solitude;  a warrior of light has not country, town, home or even a planet.

But setting boundaries with your own children can be the most challenging lesson.

Let go.
Let God.
Only God knows.
Susannah
December 25th, 2017 

Seeking and giving

An unmothered child seeks to love the way she would have wanted to be loved.

She wants to give all, even what she does not have.
She wants to do magic and pray for miracles.
She wants to make others see the most wonderful colours.
She wants to reach their heart, their emptiness, their cold dark corners and their hurting holes, because she knows about that kind of loneliness which is found among your loved ones.

Nevertheless, at the end of the road, she realizes no one dares to be loved that way.  Most people prefer darkness and cannot even feel their emptiness.
In the end, large rivers flood small villages and destroy humble homes.

Susie
Soledad Lorena

Thus, our generous love looks so selfish because we were giving what we lacked.

July 2015 

About Endo

It has always been easier to talk about certain things in English.  There is a kind of detachment or of a secret code which only certain people can decode.  There are words which do not even exist in Spanish, so I feel braver if I start writing in English.  I started thinking about it some days ago when one of our Endosisters suggested we could keep a kind of blog and then share the links in the group.  There you have it, we do not have a word for Endosisters in Spanish, and it is such a special word, I wish we had an equivalent for that.

There were two main issues which gave me the courage to open a new blog about my daily life with Endo.  The first one: most people talk about the degree of the disease, how many treatments, pills, doctors, surgeries and so on.  There is a kind of negative talk which can be helpful at first just to let things go and release the pressure inside.  But then, it makes Endo look worse than it is, and it becomes the main star on our movie and I do not want that.  The second one: I read something like “chronic uncured disease” and I said “Wow! I am not able to speak like that in front of people.”  I must admit, I am always afraid of what people might think, of not getting a job, of not having enough work or of being looked at as someone who is disabled and ready to retire.

When I realized I had Endo and that there were these nasty things with additional tissue all over my abdomen, I was frightened because I thought it might get worse sooner or later and that multiple bleeding and endless pain would spread in a way people would notice.  I started reading a lot, doing research, contacting people from different endo organizations, joining support groups all over the world and meeting endosisters on line.  Then, no matter what my family or doctors said I made up my mind and decided on myself, doing meditation, exercise, affirmations and special diet.  I can say that everything is a lot better.  More than one year ago, bleeding could last almost three months and it was sometimes so bad that I could not go out without having to run back home in less than half an hour.  My bleeding lasts only seven days a month now and it is not so heavy as it was, it might be, but only a couple of days.  As regards pain, nausea, feeling sick and other symptoms they are still there, a week before menstruation and during it, but it depends a lot on my attitude, stress, my emotions and how healthy my life is.  There are times when I can control nothing about Endo, but I have learned to live with that.

I do not want to know the size or how many of them there are, or where they are located exactly, because I know this disease cannot be cured, not now. Therefore, I do not care how long I live but I do care how I live.

Many days (most days) I am a normal woman, I can go for a walk, I can ride my bike, I can work more than twelve hours a day,  I can write poetry or just whatever comes to my mind, I can be creative, I can help people, I can teach, I can do massage, I can translate, I can have sex and enjoy it more often than a healthy man can do, I can be passionate, I can make a living even if I am unemployed, I can cook magic and delicious food, I can move all the furniture around the house just to make a change, I can paint mandalas, I can knit for myself or for others.  I like working hard and I do not feel like retiring, not now and not in twenty years time.

Some days I am ill.  I can hardly get up, I have to stay in bed, I have to take painkillers, I look awful, I feel so exhausted and weak that it is really hard to do what I have to do, I feel so sick that I want to die soon.  On those days, I cannot have sex, go for a walk, ride my bike without feeling painful, I cannot work overtime, I cannot even sit too many hours in front of my computer. Nevertheless, I can love, be tender, be watchful, be helpful, I can listen, I can read or watch a movie.

Today I got a big box with free samples of menstrual pads because I joined a Marketing Project and I have to post my comments about how I use them and I have to share my experiences with friends.  Then, I came up with the idea of writing a different kind of blog, of having a different look at the disease.  I decided to have fun and enjoy the sunny days as much as I can.

Midnight

August 1^st/ 2^nd 2012

NB: I am 47 years old and menopause should begin soon, so they say.  I hope symptoms will not be so serious when that happens.  Nevertheless, I haven blessed because I had the chance to be pregnant and have three beautiful children before I got so ill.  I have been a young mother; my first daughter was born when I was 20 and I now I am a young grandmother with 6 grandchildren, although I am not the granny type.  But that should be the topic of another post.

March 2017
I have to say holistic treatments do help.  My own research and chosen treatment have helped me overcome the disease without going under surgery.
I highly recommend reading the work of Dr. Christiane Northrup and listening to her audios.